Disgraced
by precibus
Summary: (Set after S1 and goes AU after that) Anna and Bates find themselves facing the far-reaching consequences of one lapse of self-control.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any Downton Abbey characters, I'm only borrowing them for a little while

* * *

They had had ample opportunities to stop. For months, even years afterwards, Bates would think back to that fateful night, simultaneously one of the best and worst nights of his life, and curse himself for not stopping before things went too far.

He should have stopped, should have had more self-control than to give in to his impulses. With Anna snuggled at his side in the solitude of the courtyard, he should have remained strong, as he had countless other times before.

That day, he had received another letter from Vera, tantalisingly holding the prospect of a divorce just out of his reach yet again.

_I'm not really sure I'm ready to be alone again_, she had written, claiming that being married, although only in name, was a comfort of sorts to her.

"She'll come around in time," Anna had said hopefully, turning her head to look at him while keeping her body pressed close to his to share his warmth.

"You know I'd marry you tomorrow morning if I could," he said, dipping his head to kiss her neck.

"I know," she said, shuddering as his lips grazed the hollow of her collarbone. "And I know someday we will be married. Until then, we'll just have to manage as we have been so far."

"Like this?" he asked, his emotions starting to get the better of him. "To be so close to you, and all I can do is kiss you? And I shouldn't be doing even that," he went on. "To be caught kissing a married man would ruin you."

"Being left without you would ruin me," she corrected him, turning her face back up to his. "Nothing else can."

Anger at Vera and desire for Anna bubbled up simultaneously in him, and he kissed Anna more forcefully than he would normally have, taking her by surprise and drawing a moan from her throat. Growing bolder, his hand dipped and began exploring her body through the thick fabric of her dress, fully expecting Anna to draw back in horror at any second. Instead, suprising him, her hands came up slowly, one encircling his waist and drawing herself closer to him, the other running through his hair and holding his head in place.

"You'll be my undoing, you little minx," he said in a husky voice, knowing how close he was to giving in, knowing he should draw back now, before it was too late.

"Mr. Bates –" Anna began –try as he might, he could never prevail upon her to call him "John" –and he loved her pronunciation of his surname too much to insist too hard that she use his given name –"I've told you before, and I'll tell you again, this is killing me just as much as it's killing you."

"Anna," he gasped, pulling away from her with difficulty, "I could never compromise you in that way."

"No one has to know," she said softly. She knew how forward and wanton she was being, but at that point she didn't care. The sensations rising in the pit of her belly were too much to ignore, and she knew, somehow, that she needed more than these snatched moments in the courtyard to satisfy her.

"Wait," she whispered as his hand strayed to the hem of her dress. "Not here."

His brain was telling him one thing, his heart and body quite another as he practically pulled Anna indoors, intending to make a beeline for the nearest room with a door, but found Anna tugging him instead through another door and a staircase he'd never before used. Realising quickly that she was showing him the way to the maids' corridor, he tried, albeit unsuccessfully to quiet his breathing, which was coming in quick, audible pants.

"Anna, are you quite sure you want this?" he asked as she softly closed the door of her room behind them, knowing that if she said she wasn't, he would have to do the honourable thing and leave –and hoping, in his heart of hearts, that she did want to continue.

"I am," she breathed next to his ear, knowing they had to be quiet –Mrs. Hughes was asleep only two rooms along, and Miss O'Brien on the other side. "I love you and you love me... and we're getting married someday... that makes this all right."

Ashamed as he was to admit it, he barely heard anything beyond her first two words. And with those words, their fate was sealed.

* * *

Lying in his bed, alone, a few hours later, guilt began to creep over him. Anna had deserved something much more special, not a hurried fumble in the dark... and he'd had to hurry out and back down the stairs almost immediately afterwards, not wanting to risk discovery. He should have stayed there with her, held her in his arms as she drifted off to sleep. By the time the hall boy thumped on the door to wake him at six, he had convinced himself that after his ungallant behaviour, Anna would not even want to speak to him again.

He walked downstairs almost dreading the moment when he would run into Anna.

There she was, already sitting in her usual place, one hand holding a cup of tea while the other rubbed at her eyes. He couldn't speak to her, not with Mrs. Hughes sitting across from her. Hoping that their faces weren't giving anything away, he cautiously tried to meet her gaze, steeling himself to see distaste, regret, even revulsion, cross her face. Instead he was rewarded with a half smile as she wished him a good morning in a perfectly demure tone.

"Anna," he called when he came across her making up Lady Sybil's room a couple of hours later. "Let me help you." It was an excuse, they both knew that, but it was the only opportunity he would have to speak to her privately before tonight.

"About last night," he began, but she shook her head slightly as she met his gaze.

"Mr. Bates, I know that tone," she said firmly. "You're about to apologise, but let me tell you, you have nothing to apologise for. Nothing, do you understand?"

"I shouldn't have let myself get carried away," he acknowledged, determined to say his part.

"Mr. Bates, if I didn't want you to get "carried away," as you call it, don't you think I would have stopped you?" Anna asked, a cheeky smile on her face. "I have no regrets, and you shouldn't either. We haven't hurt anyone by it, so no harm's been done."

Be that as it may, he forced himself to exercise great self-restraint when he and Anna found themselves alone once again the next evening once Mrs. Hughes had retired to bed, leaving them both ostensibly bent over their mending at the table in the servants' hall.

"No," he murmured as he felt Anna's hands begin running over his chest through his shirt. She pulled back immediately, hurt, and he hurried to reassure her.

"You've done nothing wrong, love," he said, framing her face with his hands to emphasize it. "It's just that we can't risk losing control like we did last night... we can't keep taking chances."

"What if I told you I wanted to take that chance?" she whispered softly.

"We can't, Anna. Last night should never even have happened, much less be repeated. I shouldn't have taken such a risk, and I won't again –not until we're free to be together. I'll say no more about it."

Although they never spoke of that night again, it was never far from either of their minds. Bates continually thought of it during their snatched moments together, musing that self-control was far harder to exercise now that he had already lost it once. Anna, although she saw the sense in his words and never tried to push things further, found herself thinking more and more about it as the weeks passed, fretting and wishing she had a mother or older sister to confide in.

* * *

He was perplexed when she first started withdrawing from him, worrying that he had pushed her too far, that she was getting impatient as the weeks passed with no sign that Vera was close to thawing, eventually he began to dread that Anna had realised just how old and unsuitable he was.

"Are you alright?" he asked when she pulled away as he tried to kiss her during one rare evening alone in the courtyard.

"Of course," she shrugged. "I'm fine." She fled indoors soon afterwards, claiming she was too tired to stay up much longer.

He wouldn't have though much more of it –the life of a housemaid _was_ tiring, after all –if he hadn't watched her, two mornings later, turn white as breakfast was brought in to the servants' hall. She shook her head quickly as Daisy went to place a bowl of porridge in front of her.

"Not for me, thanks, Daisy," she said. "I'm really not hungry this morning."

He watched her carefully as he ate his own breakfast, worrying that she might be sickening for something. Her breathing was quick and measured, her jaw clenched, and before long, she pushed back her chair, excusing herself to Mr. Carson and claiming that she needed some air.

Before going up to dress His Lordship, he went out into the courtyard to see how she was feeling –everyone else seemed to have forgotten she was outside, and Mrs. Hughes, who would normally have followed Anna out, hadn't yet made an appearance at the table that morning.

She was sitting on a crate, head bent and breathing slowly, though her head shot up as soon as she heard the door open.

"I'm fine, Mr. Bates," she said before he had a chance to say anything. "Just got a bit dizzy inside –all that noise and bustle, I suppose."

Not convinced, he went inside to tend to His Lordship, wondering whether he should tell Mrs. Hughes that Anna appeared to be ill. Later that morning, however, he was walking back from the stables, where he'd gone in search of Lord Grantham's misplaced riding hat, when he heard a gasping cough coming from not far away. Worried, he looked round, immediately assuming the sound was coming from the garage –had Branson been taken ill in there? The garage was empty, but as he walked round its perimeter, the sound came closer, until, crouched outside the building, on the side furthest from the house, he found Anna, retching over a bucket.

"Anna!" he gasped, immediately striding towards her. She stood up shakily as he approached, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief she fished from her apron pocket.

"You're ill," he said, putting an arm carefully round her shoulders. "Do you feel well enough to walk back to the house with me? Or I could fetch Mrs. Hughes here –"

"No," Anna begged, startling him. "Not Mrs. Hughes, please... you can't!"

"But you should be in bed," he protested, until he noticed the tears streaming down her face. "Anna, what's wrong?"

Unable to maintain eye contact with him, Anna leaned against the garage wall as more sobs overtook her. Not sure what to do, John rubbed her shoulders awkwardly, wondering what else he could do. Finally, when Anna's sobs had died down, he tried again.

"Anna, what's the matter? Why won't you let me call Mrs. Hughes?"

"She can't know," Anna said. "Please, don't tell anyone about this... I'll be dismissed if anyone finds out."

"Finds out what?" Bates asked, a cold feeling of dread beginning to creep over him.

"I think," Anna began, taking a deep breath, "I think I might be..."

Bates' ears began to ring and the world seemed to freeze around him. He didn't need to hear what Anna was saying: it was as clear as day to him as he watched one of Anna's hands curl protectively around her abdomen, as if trying to hide it from his view.


	2. Chapter 2

_This is all my fault_, Bates berated himself as Anna dropped to her knees over the bucket again. It had only been one slip, and he was the one to blame for it, but it was Anna who would be paying for his mistake. Not knowing what else to do, he rubbed her shoulders and back soothingly as she retched, and handed her his own handkerchief when she stood up again and leaned against the wall.

"I'll be alright soon," she said, catching his worried look. "The sickness will pass."

"Try not to cry, or Mrs. Hughes will guess something's up," he said, hating himself for pushing her to be stoic, wishing he could hold her and let her cry instead, but he daren't. Not here, not when they ran the risk of being discovered. She nodded, knowing that at all costs, she had to keep Mrs. Hughes from finding out.

"Anna," he continued, knowing he couldn't leave her with a cold '_don't cry'_. "We're in this together, I promise. Meet me in the courtyard tonight?"

She nodded, not daring to speak, and made a little motion with her hand that he knew meant she wanted him to leave. Silently, he turned and made his way back to the house, planning how best to divert Mrs. Hughes' attention until Anna could recover herself and return to the house without her absence being noticed.

* * *

The word _baby_ thundered in his ears the rest of the day. There was no way he and Anna could raise this child together, not with the shadow of Vera looming. This, if it ever got out, would be the proof of adultery needed for a divorce, but there was no way Vera would grant it under these circumstances –and he had no wish to drag Anna's name through the mud either. _Anna_. How could they find a way through this without Anna losing her place? Although he suspected Mrs. Hughes guessed their attraction to each other, he doubted she had guessed the extent of it.

Not that he would expect Mrs. Hughes to be sympathetic. He was, in the eyes of the law, still a married man. Regardless of their particular circumstances, he knew that Mrs. Hughes would not see this pregnancy –and the act that led to it –as anything but highly immoral. Could he convince her and Mr. Carson that it had only been the once? Could he convince them that he was at fault, not Anna?

He knew his line of thought was futile. No exceptions could be made, not even for Anna. A pregnant housemaid –an unmarried one at that –was an impossibility. Not for the first time, he cursed Vera. If only she would agree to grant the divorce, he could marry Anna the very next day. Even if it were obvious that the baby had been conceived out of marriage, that would be quickly forgiven once he had made things right by marrying Anna. Briefly, he wondered if Vera could be persuaded to agree to the divorce if he went to see her in person, begged her on his knees to free him?

Only one thing was certain. He could not force Anna to get rid of this child. If that was what she wanted, he would go with her, would pay for the procedure and be her shoulder to cry on afterwards, but only if it was what she wanted. Whatever Anna wanted, that was what he would do. If she wanted to keep this child, he would move heaven and earth to make it happen.

Anna was already at the table when he went in for the servants' dinner. He noted with relief that she looked less pallid than she had earlier that day. Briefly, he dared to hope she was mistaken –maybe there was no baby after all?

While Anna was speaking to Mrs. Hughes, Bates dared to sneak a glance at Anna's stomach. There was no swell visible under her severe black dress –he supposed it was early days yet too, if there really was a child? Although he hoped she was worrying over nothing, he knew Anna well enough to know that she wouldn't worry over this, wouldn't even have said anything to him, if she wasn't certain.

He watched her while she ate, noting that she ate slowly, eating the potatoes and vegetables but leaving the meat on her plate. The talk turned to war: William had heard that a friend of his from the village had been injured in action, and was desperate to enlist, unable to understand how he hadn't been called up yet.

"Consider that a blessing, lad," Bates said as he sat next to William later, waiting for his Lordship to ring for him. "The horrors of war aren't something you want to rush into."

While William pondered that –Bates would wager that soon, William would want to know exactly what it was that he had seen and done in the Boer War –Bates' mind went back to Anna and the baby –their baby, he reminded himself. With all the news of men being killed at the front, maybe Anna could pass herself off as a war widow?

The meal was barely over when Anna excused herself, claiming that she had some work to finish upstairs before dressing the young ladies for dinner –although Bates thought it more likely that she had been struck by another bout of sickness. There was no excuse he could make to follow her out, so he had to sit anxiously at the table until Lord Grantham rang for him. Unable to resist, he walked to Lord Grantham's dressing room via the ladies' corridor, where the buzz of voices coming from Lady Mary's room indicated that Anna and the Crawley daughters were most likely in there. Nothing sounded amiss, however, and he had to console himself with the thought that if Anna was in there, any sickness had passed and she was feeling relatively well.

_Although_, he thought, _a few more episodes like this morning's and it's only a matter of time before someone else finds her and guesses_.

Anna reappeared downstairs once the family had gone in to dinner, but neither of them dared speak to the other. Making small talk seemed impossible, but it was equally impossible to speak about what was at the forefront of their minds in the middle of the servants' hall. While Bates read quietly, Anna brought out a length of cloth and continued working on a new dress –one for herself, for a change. They hadn't been there for very long when William reappeared, red-eyed and obviously upset.

"William! What on earth's the matter?" Mrs. Hughes asked.

"Mr. Carson sent me down here to –to calm down," William explained. "His Lordship's guest, Lord Anglesworth –he said it's cowardly for an able young man not to be in uniform... but I _want_ to sign up, it's just my father won't let me." His bottom lip started to quiver and he turned away, embarrassed to be seen so close to tears.

"It's alright, William," Anna said soothingly, standing up and leading William to a seat further down the table, where he could turn and face away from the rest of the staff. Seeing Anna's effort to save William from further embarrassment, Bates turned to speak to Mrs. Hughes, trying to draw Ethel into the conversation too, so Anna and William could speak –he presumed Anna was trying to convince William that his bravery was not being called into question –without being overheard.

By the time William had composed himself, dinner was nearly over, and Anna and Ethel disappeared to turn down the beds. Anna didn't return downstairs after that, and she still wasn't back by the time Bates had finished with Lord Grantham.

"Strange how Anna's not finished yet," Mrs. Hughes said as she sent Ethel up to bed.

"Maybe she went straight up to bed?" Bates suggested, hoping that this wasn't the case.

"I doubt that," Mrs. Hughes said, indicating Anna's sewing, which was still as she had left it when she stood up to comfort William. "It's quite unlike her to leave her things lying around before retiring for the night." She and Mr. Carson disappeared into his pantry for their customary glass of sherry, leaving Bates sitting at the table wondering how long to wait before assuming Anna wasn't going to meet him after all.

_Maybe she doesn't want to speak to me at all?_

* * *

"I thought you weren't coming," he said, turning his head to look at her when he heard her footsteps coming towards him.

"Lady Sybil was in a chatty mood," she said by way of explanation. "Has everyone else gone to bed?"

"Almost everyone," he said. "Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson are in his pantry and goodness knows where Miss O'Brien is, but I think all the others have gone upstairs. Shall we go outside? I'll leave Mr. Carson a note saying that I'll lock up tonight." Despite the chill in the courtyard, he didn't want to risk the housekeeper or butler overhearing their conversation.

"Now," he said softly once Anna was settled at his side. "What's this about a baby?"

In the dim light, he could see her lip begin to quiver, and he pulled her gently towards him so her head rested on his chest and he could wrap his arms around her.

"I don't know what to do," Anna whimpered through the tears that were seeping into his shirt. "I'm scared."

"I know you must be," he said. "But you don't have to be. We're going to face this, whatever we decide to do, together. I'm not going to leave you to deal with this alone."

"What does Clarkson say?" he asked once her tears had subsided, though he still kept both arms securely round her.

"I haven't been to see Dr. Clarkson," Anna admitted. "You know he'd tell Mrs. Hughes, and I'd be out of here the same day."

"Then... how can you know for sure?" Bates asked awkwardly, knowing this was a delicate subject and not wanting to embarrass her.

"I'm almost certain," Anna said, unable to meet his gaze. "I have... most of the symptoms." She blushed as she said this, hoping he wouldn't press her for details.

"I believe you," he said. "But, next time you're in Ripon, would you go and see a doctor –one who doesn't know you, so Mrs. Hughes won't find out?"

"Will you... will you come with me?" Anna asked in a small voice, lifting her eyes to meet his.

"If you want me to, I will," Bates promised. "I'll do whatever you want me to."


	3. Chapter 3

They had to stop talking at that point as Mr. Carson opened the courtyard door looking for Mr. Bates. As soon as she heard the door squeak, Anna pulled away from Bates' embrace and scooted slightly away from him, so when Mr. Carson peered over at them, they looked perfectly respectable, though Anna's face was turned away from the door to conceal her tears.

"I'll lock up tonight, Mr. Carson," Bates said lightly. "We won't be much longer."

"That was close," he whispered once Mr. Carson bade them goodnight and went back inside.

"How long have you suspected?" Bates asked, picking up the threads of their dropped conversation.

"About three weeks," Anna admitted.

"Three weeks of worrying yourself sick, and you didn't tell me?" Bates couldn't mask the hurt in his voice.

"I was afraid," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want to hear you tell me this was my problem to deal with... I didn't know what to do..."

"I would never do that, I promise," he said, more fiercely than he had intended. "This is my fault more than yours, and I will take full responsibility for it. Never doubt that, promise me?"

She nodded slowly, snuggling back against him.

"Anna, what do you want to happen with this baby?" he asked, praying she wouldn't say that she didn't want it. Although he hadn't even known about its existence for a full day, he found that he was already feeling very tender and protective towards this little being.

"I don't know... all I can think of is hiding it for as long as I can. I don't know what to do when the baby actually gets here. I can't go back to my family unmarried with a baby –my father would kill me."

"May I ask you something?" he ventured. "Do you –do you want this baby?"

"Yes," Anna gasped, surprised that he had asked. "But... but if you don't want it..."

"Of course I do," he reassured her. "Anna, I have no intention of forcing you to get rid of our child, but I don't want you to feel you have to go through with this. If you prefer not to have this child, I'll support you through that too... whatever you want."

"I want this baby," Anna said decisively. "I know it will be difficult, I know people will talk and I know I'll have to leave Downton as soon as Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson find out... but I can face it as long as I know you're on my side."

"Then that's sorted," he said, one arm holding her tightly. "Anna, you know I'll marry you on the same day Vera grants me a divorce if I can, right?"

She nodded.

"But we need to think about what we'll do if she won't grant the divorce by the time the pregnancy is visible," he continued. "I've been thinking today, and I think I have some ideas."

"Go on," Anna encouraged him, relieved that was being so caring.

"First," he began. "If you want to stay at Downton, you can confess all to Mrs. Hughes –tell her I forced you and that you were too afraid of me to say anything before –"

"Never," Anna stopped him, her voice more fierce than he had ever heard. "I will not lie or accuse you of that, do you understand? _Never_."

"Or else," he continued. "As soon as you start to show, you could leave Downton. We'd tell Mrs. Hughes that your family needed you back," he put one finger gently over her lips tp hush her protests. "But you wouldn't really have gone back to your family... you'd go to London until the baby's born, to stay with my mother –I know she'd look after you like you were her own daughter. Then, once we've saved up enough money, we'd leave: you, me and the baby. We'd go somewhere where Vera would never find us and start over: pass ourselves off as married and begin a new life together."

"I couldn't go and stay with your mother –not like this," Anna protested, gesturing towards her stomach, although there was nothing to see yet. "I couldn't bear the shame." At this, tears once again welled from her eyes, and she reached out for his hand.

"It'll be alright," he soothed, taking her hand between both of his. "You have no need to feel ashamed when it comes to my mother, I swear to you. She'll understand."

Considering all that he'd put his mother through already: his marriage to the brash Vera, his drunkenness and imprisonment, Bates thought that his mother would be relieved that he was trying to start afresh with Anna, whom she had already met and been very taken by. She'd be disappointed that he and Anna were having a baby before marriage, but that couldn't be helped –she would understand that his and Anna's marriage depended on Vera's willingness to grant the divorce.

"We'll write to her," he said, seeing that Anna was unconvinced. "You'll see how she'll suggest the same plan I did. You're forgetting, she liked you when she met you."

"That was when she thought I was just a friend of yours," Anna said quietly into his shirt. "She won't now, not when I'm no better than a whore –"

"Anna!" Bates snapped, so harshly that even he winced as he heard his tone. "I will _not_ listen to you refer to yourself in that way, do you hear?"

"But it's true –this is all my fault," Anna protested. "I shouldn't have led you on."

"And I shouldn't have let myself be led on," he argued. "I'm older and more experienced –I'm the one who should have had more self control," he ended bitterly. "I don't want you to blame yourself," he went on in a more gentle tone, seeing that Anna was shaking and worrying that his outburst had scared her. "If you _must_ blame someone, blame me, understand?"

"You're not to blame," Anna shook her head.

"Then neither are you," Bates insisted.

"But what if your mother says no?" Anna persisted.

"If she does –which she won't –I'll run away with you that very evening," he promised. "No one at Downton will know if you don't want them to."

"Thank you," she sighed, relaxing fully against him. "For being so understanding."

"I wish you'd told me before," he said. "You've been worrying alone for the past three weeks when you didn't have to."

"You're tired," he said, seeing Anna rub her eyes and suddenly noticing the dark shadows under her eyes. "You should have been asleep ages ago –I'm sorry I kept you up."

"I'm glad you did," Anna answered. "I feel much better now that I know you're not going to make me face this alone."

"Never," he smiled. "You and the baby are now my responsibility, and I couldn't be happier about it." Of course Anna would dread being abandoned, he thought. While she had been at Downton, she had probably seen Mrs. Hughes dismiss quite a few housemaids in that situation.

"Shall we go inside?" he suggested. It was close to midnight and Anna looked exhausted.

"Goodnight," Anna said softly, stepping into his warm embrace.

"Goodnight," he replied, holding her close to him for as long as he dared. "Try not to worry too much," he said as his hand grazed her stomach lightly. "It'll be alright in the end, I promise."

"I hope you're right," Anna answered. Despite all his reassurances, she _was_ worried, or to be more accurate, afraid. Not that Mr. Bates would abandon her and the child –she had every faith in him –but afraid of Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson's wrath if they found out about the pregnancy.

XXXXXXXX

"I'm going into Ripon tomorrow," Anna said as she and Bates sat side by side in the empty servants' hall a week later. It was the first time they had been alone together since the day Anna had told Bates about the baby –with guests staying, all the servants had been run off their feet and the duo simply hadn't been able to find time to speak privately. "I... I thought I might see a doctor while I'm there." She had no doubt that she was carrying a child, but if Bates wanted it confirmed by a doctor she didn't think it was worth starting an argument over.

"Would you still like me to come with you?" Bates asked.

"I would... but it's not your half day," Anna said hesitantly.

"I can arrange to go into Ripon," Bates shrugged. "I need to go to the shops for His Lordship, he won't mind whether I go into the village or to Ripon."

"Thank you," Anna smiled, relieved that she wouldn't have to go in alone.

"Have you thought any more about our plan?" Bates ventured.

"I have," Anna admitted. "I hate to ask such a favour of your mother, but I can't go back to my parents."

"You're right," Bates agreed. He had never met the Smiths, but he knew that her family –a Puritan farming family –would not welcome her back if she were to return unmarried and expecting a child. "If anything, my mother will be pleased to have company –I think she's starting to find herself quite lonely."

"What if Mrs. Hughes finds out before I can leave?" Anna asked in a small voice. "Every day I'm afraid she'll guess."

"You'll have to lie to her," Bates said. "But," he added, his tone growing tender, "if she does find out, then you and I will leave –together –that very day. With our heads held high."


	4. Chapter 4

Getting away from Downton had been surprisingly easy. No one questioned Bates when he said he was going into Ripon to get some things for His Lordship, and with it being Anna's half day off, she didn't have to explain to anyone where she was going.

"It's going to be alright," he whispered as he helped her off the bus. Even through her gloves, he could feel her hands trembling. "You don't have to be scared."

"I know I don't, but I can't help it," she whispered back, pressing his hand for reassurance. "Every day I expect Mrs. Hughes to call me into her office and tell me that she knows."

"_If_ she did," he said, trying to calm her down, "she'd call me in too. And like I told you before, if she finds out and dismisses you, then we'll leave together and start our new life a bit earlier than we had planned. That's all there is to it."

"How can you be so positive all the time?" Anna asked. No matter how much she tried, fear seemed to be constantly bubbling inside her.

"Because I know that you and I are going to be together in the end," Bates answered, squeezing her hand gently. "I believe in us, Anna."

"Shall I wait for you outside?" he asked as they approached a small doctors' surgery. In response, Anna reached out and gripped his hand tightly, not caring who saw them. "Please don't make me go in there alone."

"I won't," he promised, leading her into the building. "Don't be scared... whatever the doctor says, we'll deal with it."

"I already know what he's going to say," Anna murmured, following him in reluctantly.

* * *

As soon as they left the surgery, Bates made a beeline for the nearest tea-shop, where he and Anna could have some privacy to talk.

"I'm sorry," Bates said as soon as the waitress had left after taking their order.

"For what?" Anna asked, worry etched on every line of her face. No matter that she had been sure even before they visited the doctor, it had still been crushing to hear it confirmed that yes, she was indeed with child.

"For getting you into this situation," Bates explained.

"It's my fault just as much as yours," Anna acknowledged. "But now we know for sure that next June..."

"Next June, our child will be born," Bates said firmly. "That's all that matters. The rest: who finds out and when –that's all irrelevant."

"To you, maybe," Anna said. Ever-practical, she could already think of some very relevant details which needed to be taken care of: how she would conceal the pregnancy, for how long, how she –and possibly Bates –would leave the Abbey without arousing suspicion... and most importantly, what would happen once the child was born.

"Anna," Bates said, "are you alright? You look miles away."

"Just worrying," Anna tried to say lightly, but the look on her face gave away the level of worry.

"Tell me."

"How are we going to hide it from everyone? And... and what will we do once the baby's born?" Tears threatened to overcome them but she choked them back when she caught sight of the waitress approaching with their order.

"Once your condition starts becoming evident, you can leave –we'll write to my mother tonight. No, Anna," he said, noticing that she was about to protest. "I'll feel much better knowing that you're staying with someone, not in some hovel by yourself. And I've told you before: if she says no –which she won't –I'll leave with you. You won't be left alone, whatever happens."

"Do you trust me?" he asked suddenly when Anna didn't reply.

"Of course!"

"Then trust that I will make things alright for you and our child," he said. "I won't have you wrecking yourself with worry."

"I can't help it," Anna said with a small smile. "But I'll try."

She trailed after him while he purchased the necessities for Lord Grantham, shaking her head quietly when Bates asked her whether she needed to visit any shops herself.

"I should be getting back to Downton," he said reluctantly when he'd bought everything he needed. It may have been Anna's half day, but he had to be back in time to dress Lord Grantham for dinner.

"I'll come with you," Anna said. "There's nothing I need to do here, and I'd rather be with you."

"You don't have to... you don't need to be back till nine tonight."

"Miss O'Brien can see to the girls anyway, I'll spend the evening working on my new dress," Anna answered. "Being in Ripon by myself would be too lonely."

Bates could think of no argument against this so they walked slowly back to wait for the bus. Emboldened by the fact that nobody they knew was around, he reached out and tentatively took one of Anna's hands in his.

"I couldn't resist," he smiled sheepishly when Anna looked up at him in surprise.

"Oh, and this isn't risky?" she asked, tempering the rebuke with a cheeky smile –the first one Bates had seen on her face for quite a while.

"No one we know will see," he reassured her, pleased that she hadn't pulled her hand away from his grasp.

Their hands fell away instinctively as they began to walk back to the Abbey –it wasn't worth the risk of being seen here, even by a villager.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Anna asked, turning round when she realised Bates had stopped walking and was standing a few paces behind her.

"I've just noticed something," he said, beginning to walk slowly towards her. "Anna, look at where you're placing your hand."

Puzzled, she looked down at herself and froze when she realised what he meant. Instead of swinging at her side, her left hand –the one not holding her bag –was curved gently around her stomach.

"Be careful," he said softly, reaching out for the offending hand. "If Mrs. Hughes sees your hand like that, we're lost."

"I wasn't doing it deliberately," she said, letting him take her hand. "I didn't even realise until you pointed it out."

"It's instinct, I suppose," he said as they continued their walk. "But one which might give us away."

"I'll be careful," she promised.

"Please do," he said, hating that they had to hide what should have been a cause for joy –_would _have been a cause of joy if it weren't for Vera –but knowing that in their world, there was no other option. "You might be able to get away with it once, but no more."

"Not even once," Anna said wryly. Nothing got past Mrs. Hughes even once –too many footmen and housemaids had learned that lesson the hard way.

They walked in silence back to the brightly-lit Abbey, each savouring their last few minutes of companionship.

"Shall we write to my mother tonight?" he suggested.

"I suppose we should," Anna agreed reluctantly. The thought of informing people of her pregnancy made it seem undeniably real. "Though I still wish we didn't have to impose on her."

"She won't see it as an imposition," Bates tried to reassure her again, but broke off when he saw a figure standing outside the servants' entrance –O'Brien, no doubt. She glared at the pair but said nothing as they walked past her.

"Let her glare," Bates muttered as they walked into the warmth. Anna, however, made a mental note to be careful around O'Brien: she hadn't liked the calculating look in the older woman's eyes, and she knew O'Brien would like nothing more than to see Anna in trouble with Mrs. Hughes.

Bates disappeared almost as soon as he'd taken off his coat and hat –the trip back from Ripon had taken longer than he'd thought and he had to hurry to have everything ready for His Lordship, leaving Anna to explain to Mrs. Hughes that since she had no errands or visits that afternoon, she thought she'd come back early and work uninterrupted on some sewing.

"As you wish," Mrs. Hughes had shrugged, making it clear that she thought it was a waste of an afternoon off.

With Mr. Bates otherwise occupied, Anna wanted to retreat to her room, but stopped short at the door of the little attic room. Ethel, the new maid, had just been in to change her uniform for the evening and must have sprayed herself liberally with cheap scent –the smell still lingered in the air, making an unexpected burst of nausea surge in Anna's stomach. Leaning against the wall, she waited for the wave of nausea to pass before entering the room cautiously, holding her breath, to collect her sewing things. Instead of returning to the servants' hall, she went to the laundry room, where at least she could be reasonably certain that she wouldn't be interrupted at this time of day.

Part of the reason she wanted to work on her dress in solitude was because she knew she would need to add extra material to the seams so that she could let them out as the months progressed –and the amount of extra material going into the seams would have definitely drawn comments if anyone had seen.

At nine, when she estimated the family would have finished dinner, she went down to the bedrooms –sour as O'Brien was, she didn't feel right leaving her to prepare all three Crawley sisters for bed as well as Lady Grantham –and spent close to an hour with Lady Mary alone, most of it spent consoling the young lady, who was broken-hearted about Mr. Matthew going to the front.

_At least Mr. Bates can't be called up_, Anna tried to comfort herself as she went downstairs to wait for Mr. Bates.

He was already there, leafing casually through that morning's newspaper as he waited for her. He had prepared a pad of paper and a pen, but hadn't yet made a start on the letter.

"I thought we should write it together," he replied when Anna asked him about it. He wasn't telling her the whole truth, of course. While she was upstairs, he had scribbled a quick note to his mother, apologising for dropping such a bombshell on her, explaining that he was accepting full responsibility for the pregnancy and ending with a plea to her to take care of Anna and the child while he worked to save up so they could start a new life "_out of Vera's reach, since I doubt she will ever agree to a divorce_." He intended to slip it into the envelope once out of Anna's sight, before posting it.

The letter was quickly written –mostly by Bates, with very little input from Anna, who sat listlessly at his side, offering suggestions only when he asked for them, but not speaking otherwise.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked as he folded the single sheet of paper.

"Of course," Anna answered. "Why?"

"You've been so quiet ever since we went to the doctor's this afternoon. You would tell me if you were feeling ill, wouldn't you?"

"I'm fine," Anna said. "Even though I already knew, I'm still a bit stunned to have it confirmed, I think. That's all."

"As long as you're sure you're all right," Bates said, still unconvinced, before reaching his arms around her and pulling her gently towards him. She rested her head on his chest for a few seconds before he broke the hug.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, surprised.

"Not exactly," he said awkwardly. "I just feel... wrong, touching you now that you're with child... afraid of hurting you."

"Silly beggar," Anna laughed, reaching towards him again. "I won't break, you know."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I may be taking some liberties with the post S1 and canon S2 timelines regarding what happens and when_

* * *

When Bates went down to the servants' hall for breakfast two days' later, Anna was nowhere to be seen.

"I saw her going into the courtyard," Daisy answered hurriedly when he stopped her to ask if she had seen Anna –guessing, rightly, that she would be too busy to gossip about his question later. Hoping everything was alright, he made a beeline for their usual secluded spot. It took a while to find her –if she was outside, she had managed to find herself a spot well out of sight of the door –but eventually he caught sight of a slight figure in a print dress. Her back was facing him, with her head resting on the cold stone wall.

"Anna," he called quietly, not wanting to startle her. "Are you alright?" Even from where he was standing, he could see her stiffen, then relax as she recognised his voice.

"Oh, it's only you," she said, turning to face him. "For a second there I thought Mrs. Hughes had sent someone out to find me."

"I don't think she's noticed you're missing," he said, though he knew people would be noticing their absence as breakfast started. "Is everything alright?"

"Just a bit nauseous, that's all," Anna answered, wiping her face with a handkerchief. "Came out for a bit of fresh air."

As soon as Anna mentioned nausea, his face creased, worried at the thought that she wasn't feeling well and had a full day of work ahead of her. "Can I get you anything for it?"

"I'm not sure," she replied. "I know the sickness is normal, but I don't know what to take to ease it... I don't know anything about this."

Of course she wouldn't, Bates thought. Brought up by parents who had certainly never mentioned anything like this to her, Anna's only knowledge of such things most likely had come from novels –and he knew novels wouldn't give the details she needed at this point. Mrs. Hughes would probably have something to help, but they certainly couldn't ask her.

"Today's my half day," he said. "I can go into the village and see if I can find anything to ease it –don't worry, I'll be very careful what I get."

"Thank you," Anna smiled. "We should go back inside, shouldn't we?"

"I suppose so," he answered. "But do you feel well enough for it?"

"I'll have to," she retorted, taking deep breaths as they began to walk back. "As long as I'm not sick in front of anyone, I don't think they'll guess. Although I won't deny I'll be grateful when it passes."

Mrs. Hughes gave them a thoughtful look as they slipped back into the kitchen –Bates imagined she was taking in his flushed face –it was windy outside and they had walked briskly –and Anna's pale one and putting two and two together to make a very uncomfortable four. Hoping against hope that Anna could make it through breakfast, he kept his eyes on his plate, not daring to meet Mrs. Hughes or Miss O'Brien's eyes, and not ready to risk a quick glance at Anna, although he was conscious of each and every one of her movements next to him.

Her Ladyship's bell rang first, which meant his Lordship's bell wouldn't be far behind. As Miss O'Brien bustled out of the room in search of the breakfast tray, Anna stood up to go and check whether the young ladies were up and ready to be dressed yet.

"I don't know how she does it," Ethel yawned. "Head housemaid and waiting on the three girls too –although I suppose it's no wonder she's always looking so tired."

Bates had to suppress a glare –how dared Ethel comment? He hoped Mrs. Hughes wouldn't take her comment too seriously.

"She's a hard worker," Mrs. Hughes answered. "Which is more than I can say for some."

Although Ethel didn't appear to catch the snub, Bates did, and chuckled to himself as he left the room in response to His Lordship's bell. He would repeat the exchange to Anna –she'd be pleased at the thinly-veiled compliment Mrs. Hughes had given her.

* * *

True to his word, he spent a fair portion of his afternoon off wandering the village in search of sickness remedies for Anna. On his return to Downton, he dropped the small parcels onto Anna's mending tin when no one was looking.

"I got them," he whispered. "Some ginger –I figure since it works for most causes of upset stomachs, it can't hurt to try it –and I remember hearing my mother mention once that arrowroot helps, so I got you some of that to try."

"Thank you," Anna smiled, relieved that she had something to try. "I could go to Mrs. Hughes claiming an upset stomach, but probably only once before she'd smell a rat."

"Ideally you won't need to at all," Bates answered. The less direct contact Anna had with Mrs. Hughes the better, in his opinion –the housekeeper could ferret out secrets faster than anyone else he'd ever known, and he didn't want Anna inadvertently letting anything slip.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "You're frowning."

"Just thoughtful," he answered. "His Lordship is going on a trip to London and I'll have to go with him. I hate leaving you like this, but I was thinking I might look for Vera while I'm there. It's a long shot –she could be anywhere by now, but I could go to all her old haunts, just in case someone's heard anything lately."

"Would you ask her for a divorce?"

"Beg her, throw myself at her knees if I must-she'd love that."

"No," Anna shook her head. "The more desperate she thinks you are, the more she'll enjoy denying you." Bates had to concede she was right –if Vera even suspected why he suddenly needed a divorce so badly, much less that time was of the essence for him, the more perverse pleasure she would take in clinging to her married status. Deep down he knew that appealing to Vera's good nature would be futile: the only thing keeping her going was her hatred of John... dimly he wondered whether bribing her would help, but he immediately dismissed the thought: all the money he had saved up was for Anna and the baby, not to line Vera's pockets.

"Remember this," Anna went on softly. "Whatever Vera says or does, you and I will be together in the end, I know it. Keep that in mind and you won't seem desperate to her." She had a point: maybe if he presented the divorce to her as a win-win situation, he had a chance of success.

"And I'll be right here when you get back," Anna concluded. "I'll be fine until you're back."

Mr. Carson walked in with a sheaf of letters in his hand, and Bates immediately sat up straighter. If his mother had replied on the same day she received his and Anna's letter, there was a good chance that her reply might have arrived in that afternoon's post –but maybe she hadn't replied immediately. Maybe she had needed time to think about his revelation, maybe it had shocked her so much that she hadn't wanted to reply. For all his assurances to Anna that his mother would willingly help them out, he was now starting to have doubts about it. Beside him, Anna was watching Mr. Carson just as eagerly.

"Is there anything for me, Mr. Carson?" Bates couldn't help asking.

"I'm afraid not,"the butler answered as he sorted through his handful of envelopes. "There's one for William," he said, handing a thick envelope to the footman. "And one for you, Anna."

Bates leaned back in his chair, dejected. Assuming the letter was from Anna's family, he didn't even bother asking her about it, but Anna took it curiously. She wasn't expecting any letters –she had only just received one last week, and it would be most unlike her parents to write again so soon.

"It's from London," she said to Bates in an undertone, and that was enough to pique his interest.

"That's my mother's handwriting," he said wonderingly.

"Why would she be writing directly to me?" Anna asked, looking slightly worried. After looking at it for a few moments, she picked it up and slipped it into her apron pocket.

"Let's not open it now," she suggested. "Let's wait till we're alone." Bates could guess exactly what she meant: if it wasn't the reply they had been hoping to receive, they might need some time to compose themselves after reading it, and time to re-think and discuss their next step.

"Tonight then?" he asked, and Anna nodded her agreement.

All through the servants' dinner, Anna couldn't stop thinking about Mrs. Bates' letter. That morning's nausea had subsided, but she was afraid she might now be sick with anticipation.

"Don't worry," Mr. Bates whispered to her as he left to respond to his Lordship's bell. While Anna waited for one of the young ladies to ring for her, she tried to work on one of the bookmarks she was embroidering to send to her sisters as Christmas gifts. It suddenly dawned on her that maybe she ought to start knitting things for her baby, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She might be able to pass them off as things she was knitting for a relative's baby, but perhaps she oughtn't to put the idea of babies into Mrs. Hughes' brain.

The bell connected to Lady Mary's room rang and she hurried upstairs, where she found all three Crawley siblings arguing –nothing new there. Thinking once again that her role was more that of peace-maker than personal maid, she attempted to soothe the frayed tempers, noting that for a change, Lady Mary and Lady Edith appeared to be united against Lady Sybil, of all people. As she dressed the trio and did their hair, she managed to gather the source of the row: Lady Sybil had decided to leave Downton to train as a nurse.

"Papa's not going to be pleased," Lady Mary, the last to leave, muttered to Anna as she left the room.

"That he won't," Anna agreed, and wished she could eavesdrop on the conversation that was sure to erupt over the dinner table that evening. Mr. Carson would definitely not allow it, so all she could do was hope that William would report the conversation back to those waiting in the servants' hall. For the first time since the idea had been broached, she wished Mr. Carson hadn't been so averse to the idea of maids serving in the dining room –she would have given anything to watch the sparks fly in person.

* * *

"You'll never guess what Lady Sybil's gone and done," Bates said when he joined her some hours later in the servants' hall.

"Going to nursing school," Anna answered. "Her sisters aren't too pleased about it either."

"'Not pleased' is an understatement when it comes to His Lordship's reaction," Bates smiled wryly. "Apoplectic would be more like it." He had just come from twenty minutes of Lord Grantham ranting about Lady Sybil and the madcap ideas Mrs. Crawley was filling her head with.

"They've got their problems, we've got ours," Anna murmured. From where she was standing, the Grantham's dismay over Lady Sybil's decision –a very brave one, in Anna's opinion –seemed like child's play compared to the difficulties she and Mr. Bates were facing: those brought about by the prospect of an illegitimate child.

Bates immediately sobered. "You're right," he said seriously. "The letter?"


	6. Chapter 6

"Why don't you open it?" Anna suggested, handing him the envelope. Although it was addressed to her, she was too nervous to open it herself. Bates took the letter from her and quickly tore it open. Sneaking a quick glance at the letter as he unfolded it, Anna caught sight of the letter's heading, _My dear Anna,_ and relaxed slightly: a letter that began like that couldn't be so bad, surely? She didn't dare try and read any further, averting her gaze until she heard Bates' relieved laugh.

"It's alright, Anna," he laughed, almost giddy with relief. "It really is –Mother's more than happy for you to stay with her."

"Is she really?" Anna asked cautiously, although she couldn't catch any traces of deceit in either his voice or his face.

"Honestly," he smiled, handing her the letter. "Here, you should read it too." She skimmed it quickly, words and phrases jumping out at her.

_My dear Anna_

_Of course you –and your child –can come and stay with me for as long as you need to. I can understand that you may feel awkward asking, but there is truly no need to. There is more than enough room here, and it will be lovely to have some company too. How are you finding the pregnancy? I hope John is taking care of you as best he can!_

_You'll be safe here, no one has to know your story. If you prefer, we could pass you off as a widowed niece, although that decision will be up to you. I imagine you will want to remain at Downton for as long as you can conceal your situation, but if the worst should happen and you need to leave in a hurry, come straight here –a room is made up for you, whether you need it in a few days' or a few weeks' time. I will also be writing to John shortly, but I felt I ought to contact you directly first to assure you that you will be most welcome here. I will look after you as if you were my own daughter._

_Love,_

_Margaret Bates_

"That's so kind of her," Anna said as she folded Mrs. Bates' letter back up.

"It's a weight off my mind, I'll admit," Bates said. "Knowing that you'll have somewhere to stay and someone to take care of you."

"It'll be strange, leaving Downton so furtively," Anna said. "And it'll be doubly strange to be without you."

"I'd leave with you right away if I could," Bates said, gently taking her face between his hands. "But I have to work."

"I know," Anna agreed. "But I'll miss you, that's all I mean."

"And I you," he concurred. "It won't be for long though –and I'll write to you, every day if you want me to. And before too long, we can start our new life, just the three of us." The specifics of their new life weren't clear to him yet: whether they would go to America, stay in London, move a couple of counties over –it depended too much on whether Vera would allow him to legally be free of her.

"And I'll write back," Anna promised. "Let you know how Baby Bates is doing." A smile crossed her face at the words and her hand dropped to her belly, quickly followed by Bates' hand.

"We won't need to write for very long, I hope," he said softly. "God willing, we'll be together again before very long."

"In the meantime," Anna continued for him in a low voice, "we'd better make the best of the time we have left here, hadn't we, Mr. Bates?"

"John," he corrected, laughing as he pulled her closer to him, his other hand still resting on hers. "You can't very well refer to me as Mr. Bates in front of my mother!" Anna joined in the laughter as she tried to imagine doing so.

"I won't," she laughed.

* * *

"All set, Mr. Bates," William nodded at the valet as he finished lugging the last of Lord Grantham's bags to the car and dashing forward to take Bates' carpet bag from him and adding it to the pile of luggage.

"Thank you, William," Bates smiled, once again thanking his lucky stars that Thomas was no longer at the Abbey. There was no way Thomas would have helped him drag the bags downstairs –no, Thomas would have watched and smiled as Bates had to make trip after trip up and down the stairs.

"You've got time to pop down and say your goodbyes, Mr. Bates," Tom Branson grinned as he walked round the car to check that the luggage was secure. "His Lordship won't be out until he's finished his luncheon, and Mr. Carson's stuck in the dining room with them."

Bates looked at him, puzzled, and Branson laughed.

"To Anna," he urged. "Doesn't take much to see that you two are sweet on each other."

Branson was more observant than most gave him credit for, Bates mused as he walked back into the house, coming across Anna on her way up the servants' staircase with a pile of linen.

"I was just coming to find you," he said. "To say goodbye."

"Don't make it sound like it's permanent," Anna chided at his mournful tone. "You'll be back in a couple of days."

"I'm not comfortable leaving you, that's all," Bates defended himself.

"I'll be fine," Anna reassured him. "I feel fine, honestly." She meant it: the nausea had mostly subsided and she was, thankfully, no longer as tired as she had been a couple of weeks before. "You just concentrate on His Lordship –and on finding Vera."

"I'll send you a telegram if I make any progress with her," he promised. "But promise me you'll contact me if anything happens here." Bates wasn't quite convinced Anna would be "fine." Certainly, she was feeling well, but he was afraid that could change at any minute. The work of a housemaid was taxing after all, possibly too taxing for Anna in her condition.

"I will," Anna replied. Much as she would miss Mr. Bates –or John, as she had begun to call him in private and to herself –she had to admit it would be a relief to have things get back to normal in the servants' hall. He had been fussing and worrying about her entirely too much lately, even trying to cover Ethel's shirked duties so Anna wouldn't have to do them all herself, and she knew it wasn't going unnoticed. Miss O'Brien had even commented nastily that Mr. Bates was acting as though Anna were made of glass lately, a claim Anna had quickly denied, hoping that nobody else –especially not Mrs. Hughes or Mr. Carson –had heard the exchange. With Mr. Bates gone for a few days, she hoped it would be forgotten.

"Take care of yourself," Bates urged as he turned to return to the car, not daring to prolong the goodbye or make any physical contact in such a public space. "Of both of you," he added.

"Your daddy's worrying a bit too much about us," Anna whispered to the baby as she made her way up the stairs. It wasn't that she was irritated by his fussing –it was actually quite nice to have someone worry about her –but she was worried that he was overdoing it and that someone would start to suspect something. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like if she and John were actually married. There wouldn't be any need to hide the pregnancy: she could be open about it when she felt ill or tired, could talk about it openly instead of in snatched, secret moments in the courtyard. Most importantly, she wouldn't be living in fear of being found out: it wouldn't be shameful but something wonderful… it was only in the letters going between her and Mrs. Bates that she felt her baby was a blessing rather than a curse. Thank goodness for Mrs. Bates, she thought.

* * *

When Lord Grantham had left for his club meeting, Bates set out to find Vera. He had a clear 3 hours before His Lordship was due back –surely 3 hours was enough to find some trace of Vera? Her letters had dried up, but she couldn't have erased all traces of herself from London in just a few weeks.

His first stop was the last address he had for Vera. It was only a couple of streets away from the club, but a world away. It was a slum, no question about it: crowded, dank and smelling of rot and sewage. How had Vera fallen so low?

"I'm sorry, there's no Vera living here anymore," the young woman who answered Bates' knock told him. She had a crying baby balanced on one hip and another crawling child at her feet. "The last tenant here fell behind on the rent then did a moonlit flit. 'Fraid I can't tell you any more."

Bates thanked her and left, desperate to get away from the stench of desperation in the little tenement. As he walked towards the pubs –if anyone knew Vera, it would be the pub landlords –he couldn't quite place what it was about the young woman in the rented room that had so unsettled him. Was it merely pity for her? Suddenly it hit him: Anna! A vision of Anna, alone, disgraced and penniless, with a child to support, flashed into his mind and he had to pause to gather himself. Anna and their child could _not_ end up like that, he vowed to himself. He wouldn't let that happen –but what if anything happened to him? Anna had no legal claim to him, and it sickened him to think of Vera getting all his money and belongings –not that he had much –while Anna was left with nothing. Whether or not he found Vera, while in London he would have to pay a visit to his mother's solicitor. Morbid as it was to think about his own death, he knew it was foolish not to consider it: he was no longer a young man, and he owed it to Anna and their child to ensure that they would be provided for. Even if Mr. Black assumed Anna was his mistress, it would be a small price to pay for peace of mind.

_And it's all the more reason to find Vera and get that divorce._


End file.
